Reset
by Winter's Empire
Summary: Sequel to Game Over. They haven't seen each other in years. It is Hermione who decides to take the first step and it will be Oliver to decide if he wants to take the next.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter or Smallville. If I did, HHr and Chlark wouldn't be fanon.

**A/N:** This is the sequel to Game Over but it can also be seen as some sort of interlude since it's not the main story yet. This will be a short multi-chaptered fic, most likely no more than five. Oh and I need a beta if anyone is interested.

**Setting:** It's takes place approximately 11 years after Game Over, I can't be too sure on the timeline. This is DH compliant, minus the epilogue. It is the summer before Hermione's 21st birthday Oliver's 20th and Oliver has recently returned to Star City (which I read is in CA, correct me if I'm wrong) after being stranded on the island for two years.

Prologue

Ring.

Oliver jolted awake, unconsciously reaching for a knife that wasn't there to defend himself against the attacker.

Ring. Ring.

It was only the phone.

He groaned and rubbed his palms against his face tiredly. It appeared that those two years on the island had been enough to make him unaccustomed to the sounds of civilization.

Ring. Ring.

He glared at the phone sitting on the nightstand. Stupid reporters just didn't know when to give up.

Ring.

He reached over to disconnect it.

"Is this thing on? Is it recording?"

He stopped. There was a giggle in the background he recognized too well and he swallowed hard.

"…hey friends and family, this is Oliver but I'm not here right now so leave a message."

_Beep._

Oliver remained silent and stared intently at the answering machine. Another giggle reached his ears but this one was different from the last. Yet, somehow still familiar.

"Oh!" a female voice exclaimed, as if just realizing the machine was on.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to laugh…"

Did the voice sound British?

"…I just wasn't expecting that…"

It was.

"…I mean I figured that after all these years you would have changed it…."

There was a pause.

"…It's me Oliver. Hermione, Hermione Granger. You probably don't remember me but…anyway I was just calling to see if you were alright. I mean I saw the article…I suppose you really don't want to talk about that so I'll stop there…I'm really glad you're safe. Bye."

Oliver didn't move. He didn't even breathe. His mother's laughter was ringing his ears and memories he had long stored away, had been triggered by that one girl's voice.

xxXxx

The phone rang but Hermione didn't answer it.

Idiot.

Then why had she been sitting there in the hall for an hour? Hadn't she been hoping that he would call back even if she hadn't told him to?

She listened to her voice, as it resonated through the empty house.

"Hello, you've reached the Granger's residence. Sorry but we're not here at the moment. Please leave a message with your name and number, and we'll get back to you as soon as possible."

_Beep. _

Hermione held her breath.

"Hey…um…Hermione Granger, right?"

The voice was hesitant and a bit off.

"This is Oliver Queen…it's five in the morning, in case you forgot that there's a time difference between California and Europe."

There was a long pause and Hermione believed that he had decided to hang up when she heard him sigh.

"Listen, I want to thank you for your concern. I can't really say if I'm alright but I'm going to be. I don't need you to call me again. Bye."

He hanged up that time.

For several moments, Hermione stayed still and she hadn't even realized that she had began to cry until she felt a tear splash on her hand.

She wasn't crying because of his hurtful words. He had already shoved her completely out of his life over ten years ago, and if truth be told, she had nearly forgotten him trying to live through hers.

If she hadn't decided to walk to work earlier this morning, the wind would not have blown that muggle newspaper into her face with the headline "CEO Back from the Dead." Then, she probably wouldn't have given a single thought to Oliver Queen.

Drawing her legs towards her, she buried her face into her knees. She tried not to think about the possibility that he could have been gone forever and she wouldn't have known it.

At least he was alive and for that she was glad.

"Stupid prat," she muttered into her legs as her tears continued to fall.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or Smallville. If I did HHr and Chlark would not be fanon.

**A/N:** I would like to thank my wonderful beta _**embirsiphonelilathia**_. This first chapter goes out to her.

Oliver Queen held the bottle of wine to his lips and tipped his head back against the headboard of his bed. He was disappointed to find that only a few drops had been left.

"Need more wine," he grunted, allowing the bottle to roll off his fingers and fall onto the ground with a clank.

"I think you have had just about enough."

He barely registered the voice and he turned his head to the side, where he could just make out his girlfriend, Tess Mercer, standing in the doorway.

"Mercy," he slurred, smiling stupidly.

Tess made her way towards him and when she was near enough, he noticed the tears held at the rim of her eyes, just waiting to be pushed over the edge.

"You're drunk," she stated. "You think you would have had enough last night."

There was a hint of anger to her tone and her resentment became clear when she flung a newspaper onto his face.

He clumsily took hold of the paper that was now draped over his bare chest, knowing exactly where to look. In the three months since his return, he had practically taken over the headlines.

There on the front page of the _Daily Star_, was a large picture of him coming out of one of Star City's elite nightclubs, accompanied by an attractive brunette.

"You know, I really wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt, Ollie."

Oliver returned his attention to Tess. Even in his intoxicated state, he could tell she was struggling to keep her voice steady and the guilt began gnawing at his heart.

"Mercy I–"

"Unfortunately, I just happened to bump into your bed buddy on her way out so I really don't want to hear what you have to say, Oliver."

Tess turned to leave and Oliver quickly stumbled out of bed. "Wait, don't-"

He tried making a grab for her but he slipped on the bottle he had dropped earlier, and fell to the ground with a loud thud.

He groaned and rolled onto his back, closing his eyes momentarily to ease the dizziness he was feeling. When he re-opened them, he was met with the tear-filled green eyes of his girlfriend.

Tess was kneeling over him closely but there was no contact between them. "You know, Ollie, I believed you back in the island when you said you were going to change and I still do. It wasn't until recently that you gave me a reason to doubt you. I know something must have happened to cause you to return to your old ways and I need you to tell me what," she choked on her words and felt a tear rolled down her cheek.

She quickly turned away from him. "B-But I can't talk to you right now. Not like this and especially not after what just happened. If you're willing to save this relationship, come and find me in a few days."

Oliver could only nod, and this time he made no sudden movements when she stood up and left him.

For several moments, he just continued to lay there, his senses still clouded by the alcohol.

The silence was then broken by the phone, which Oliver made no attempt to answer. He would allow the machine to get it.

He slowly started to get up but froze when he heard the very thing that had started it all.

"Is this thing on? Is it recording?"

Laughter.

"Mom."

"Hey friends and family, this is…"

"Mom."

"…so leave a message."

Beep.

He crawled desperately towards the phone. "Mommy!"

xxXxx

"I'm home," Hermione announced as she walked in through the door.

Just as she closed the door behind her, both Ginny and Luna shot out of the kitchen, smiling in what seemed to be in relief.

She glanced curiously between them until she noticed the cordless phone in Ginny's hand, and she let out a groan. "Gin, please tell me you didn't dial the police department by accident again."

Ginny huffed. "Relax, Hermione, I didn't. I actually don't know who I just called but I was trying to order some take-out from your favorite pasta place through that quick button."

"Speed dial," Hermione corrected her, chuckling. "Why didn't you just wait until I got home?"

"It was supposed to be a surprise," Ginny grumbled.

Hermione arched her brow.

"Harry told us the good news," Luna told her, dreamily. "Your foreign student exchange program is now officially established. Congratulations."

"We wanted to celebrate by just having a night in," Ginny explained. "Mom sent over a chocolate cake, and we have firewhiskey too. All we needed was the food."

Hermione smiled brightly at her two housemates, and she threw her arms over them. They had been living with her at her parents' house ever since they had graduated from Hogwarts nearly two years ago. She had been unable to let go of the house, and was glad when they had decided to move in with her, in hope that they would be able to ease away her guilt for not being able to return her parents' memories.

Because Hermione had warded the house so their use of magic would go unnoticed by the neighbors, Ginny and Luna didn't attempt to live like muggles. Occasionally they would pick up on a few muggle things, which they had far from perfected.

There was also the fact that all three of them worked long hours and barely spent much time around the house. When Ginny wasn't at quidditch practice for the Holyhead Harpies, she was either with Harry or visiting her family. Luna was the editor of the Quibbler, and due to its growing popularity after the war, the monthly issue now came out every two weeks.

Hermione, however, spent more hours at the office than either of them. She was working for the Ministry of Magic in the Department of International Magical Cooperation. During the war they had been short on allies, and Hermione realized that if in the future another war broke out in the wizarding world, it would be in their best interest if they had the support of foreign magical governments.

Therefore, Hermione came up with an idea of a foreign student exchange program to unite their ties with other countries. However, a program such as that required a large amount of money. One of her first sponsors – apart from Harry – was Viktor Krum who also believed the program should have a separate branch for an International Quidditch Summer Camp for the youth. It wasn't until recently, that they had acquired all the funds they would need to start off and had finalized all the details.

"So do you know who will be participating in the program yet?" Ginny asked excitedly, as Hermione pulled away.

Hermione shook her head. "Ginny, the program hasn't been announced yet, and it won't be for another week or so. Also, the application process won't start until the beginning of term in September and we will not inform the students if they have been selected until the beginning of December."

"So they won't be participating in the program until after the Holidays, then?" Luna guessed.

Hermione nodded. "And the applications for the quidditch camp won't be available until the spring."

"You best expect a large number of applicants for that one," Ginny smirked, "And I'm still waiting for you to ask me to be one of the instructors, which I'm sure you're planning to very soon."

Hermione knew Ginny was joking and she thought she would humor her when the phone in her hand began to ring.

Ginny looked at phone in alarm.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Give it here. I'll explain the situation and then I'll order the food."

Ginny was only too happy to hand over the phone.

Pressing the power button, Hermione lifted the phone to her ear, ready to apologize, when the person on the other line spoke first.

"Mommy?"

Hermione froze. She instantly recognized the voice that had been haunting her for the past month. But surely it couldn't be.

"Mommy?"

This time she noted the desperation.

"Are you there? Can you hear me?"

There was a pause and she held her breath, ignoring the questioning looks Ginny and Luna were sending her.

"W-Why did you have to leave me? Why couldn't you have taken me with you? I feel lost without you and dad. I don't…I don't know what to do. I need help. I need you."

By this time, Hermione had realized that Oliver wasn't in his right state of mind. It was clear that he was asking for his mother and not her but that didn't matter. The pain in his voice was genuine and she had made up her mind before she even realized it.

"I-Its okay, my little archer," Hermione said, remembering Mrs. Queen's pet name for her son. She raised a hand to wipe away the tears in her eyes. "I-It's going to be okay. I'm coming."


	3. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or Smallville. If I did, Chlark and HHR would not be fanon.

**A/N:** Here's the next chapter. I would just like to thank all my reviewers. It makes me so happy to know you guys are enjoying my story. You guys are awesome. And special thanks to my amazing beta **embirsiphonelilathia **who manages to make time in her busy schedule for me.

- Chapter 2 -

Hermione was sitting on her window sill, resting her head against the cool glass as she stared out into the empty streets of her neighborhood. It was very late and therefore not surprising that her neighbors had preferred the warm confinements of their beds over a past midnight stroll. Ginny and Luna had also retired to their rooms a couple of hours ago, after their several failed attempts to get her to open her door.

No doubt their interest had been piqued at overhearing her short yet intimate conversation with Oliver, and transformed into deep concern when she rushed into her room and locked herself in. Once inside she had pulled out her trunk and started piling things in.

However, halfway through her packing she had come to her senses and realized how incredibly foolish her actions were. Just what the bloody hell was she doing?

She had taken a moment to think things through but she had yet to stop thinking, trying to rid any thoughts that even considered following through to her words spoken to Oliver.

_This is bloody ridiculous_, she thought.

She couldn't possibly go to the States. Could she?

xxXxx

"Mr. Queen…Mr. Queen…Mr. Queen...OLIVER!"

Oliver winced, blinking against the sun's rays and the hollering woman above him.

"Good to see you're still alive, Mr. Queen, and just in time to greet the day before it sets." Oliver noted the sarcasm in his beloved housekeeper, Greta.

"Well I do love a good sunset," he replied cheekily before groaning and clutching his pounding head. Maybe he shouldn't have sat up so suddenly. "What am I doing on my floor?"

"Nursing a hangover, apparently," Greta replied, stripping his bed of its sheets, "But I had been hoping it was due to Miss Mercer giving you a good wallop."

Oliver wasn't fazed by Greta's boldness. She was an old family friend, and therefore the only servant privileged with a loose tongue.

However, at the mention of Mercy's name, the events of earlier came back but a bit hazy. He furrowed his brow in confusion before throwing his head back and laughing.

Greta jumped, startled by his outburst. "I'm guessing the alcohol isn't out of your system yet."

Oliver shook his head. "No that's not…I just remembered I had the strangest dream."

He chuckled, shaking his head again. _Nah, it couldn't be._

xxXxx

Hermione's quill quivered in her hand as she scribbled away furiously. She was trying to keep her focus on her paperwork.

She had already spent half the morning in her office pacing, thinking of the half-empty trunk in her bedroom and trying to come up with an explanation to justify for her actions. She just couldn't understand why she had considered going to the States.

God she hated this. She hated how last night's episode had left her disoriented. She hated how she just couldn't seem to understand anything that was happening. Why were her emotions so unstable, after years of being in control?

Only one other was been able to send her emotions into frenzy, and that was Ron, her boyfriend of two years now. However, that was due to their constant arguing and not for the reasons she had now.

Placing her quill down, Hermione groaned into her hands.

She had done it again. This just wasn't like her.

A knock on her door caused her to look up. "Come in."

An intern stuck his head in. "I hope I'm not interrupting, Ms. Granger."

Hermione shook her head. "No, of course not, John. What can I help you with?"

"Just came to give you this," he said, walking in and holding up a letter.

She took the letter and recognized the handwriting immediately. Viktor.

She dismissed her intern as she opened it but just as he was about to walk out the door, she called him back. "John, when exactly did you get this letter."

John shifted uncomfortably under her gaze and cleared his throat. "A few days ago, Ms. Granger, but I sort of misplaced it."

Hermione gave him a critical look, the letter was dated two weeks ago. And if she had read correctly, she would have to arrange a portkey to the States for tonight.

The schools, who had decided to participate in her program, had also arranged visiting days, for either her or Viktor. It was a formal meeting, in which the hosting school would explain their educational system, give them a tour of the grounds, and explain what they would be doing to make their foreign students feel comfortable.

Viktor had become so active in promoting her program, and filling out formal documents that he had become more of a partner, rather than just a financial contributor. Hermione had had no qualms about dividing the visits between them. Though she couldn't deny that her title as a 'War Hero' and Viktor being the 'Greatest Seeker in the World' brought a lot of publicity and support of her program.

One of the schools Viktor was supposed to visit in late August, was the Salem Witches' Institute. However, Viktor just informed her in his letter that the school's Headmistress has moved up the date to his visit, and he is unable to go due to a quidditch match. He said that he will gladly attend the Academy for Witchcraft and Wizardry of Brazil in her stead if she goes to Salem.

Hermione re-read the letter to double check the day of the visit. A dinner with the Dean was set up for tonight and there would be a meeting and school tour tomorrow. She couldn't have been more grateful for the time difference. London had at least five hours on Massachusetts.

She quickly started gathering her things when she noticed John was still standing before her. "Well go on, then. Get back to work," she snapped.

John scurried out of her office and Hermione felt a bit guilty for taking out her frustrations on the intern. However, most of her interns tested her patience. Because several ministry officials didn't appreciate her fast-paced climb up the ministry ladder, they left her incompetent interns.

_Looks like I'll be going to the States after all_, she thought to herself.

The irony.

xxXxx

"Jesus, Oliver, do you have any idea what time it is?"

Oliver checked the time on his computer.

_3: 51 a.m. _

He rubbed his eyes to make sure he wasn't seeing things. Unfortunately, he wasn't.

"Sorry Roger," Oliver apologized into his phone. "I was busy doing…research. I didn't realize it got so late."

"What kind of research?" Roger demanded. "What are you up to, boy?"

Oliver sighed. He should have known better. Although Roger was pushing sixty, the old man was still sharp as ever. "You're not going to like it, Roger."

"I'm expecting that."

Oliver ran a hand through his hair, something he did when he was nervous. "I'm thinking of taking a leave of absence."

Silence.

And Oliver was only too content to wait it out. A part of him was hoping Roger would just leave it at that, and tell him he could do what he right well pleased. After all, no one else but him had control over his life.

"How long?"

Nevertheless, Oliver was still taken aback by his answer. "You're not going to try to stop me?"

"I could try but if I did, you'd probably be long gone by sunrise. I know there isn't much I can do, Oliver."

Oliver couldn't help but smile. "Actually there is, Roger. You could take care of the Queen Industries while I'm gone."

Roger was his father's most trusted associate, and during his time on the island, it was Roger who had slapped away any greedy hands that wanted to take control of the company.

"How long, Oliver?" Roger repeated his unanswered question.

"Honestly, I'm not sure Roger. All I know is that I need to get away. I need to…deal with some matters."

Oliver knew Roger wanted to question him further. Like everyone else, he was certain Roger was just as curious as to what had happened to him on the island. But he couldn't talk about it to anyone, not even Greta. The only exception was Tess, and yet, he couldn't talk to her about his parents. Especially not after what had happened.

_Mercy._

Oh how he wanted to make things right between them but he was too ashamed. There was no excuse for what he did and now he was leaving without any intention of saying goodbye. She would hate him for sure.

"Alright Oliver," Roger finally spoke, breaking him out of his thoughts. "However, I'm expecting you to do things right this time."

"What exactly does that mean?"

"Set up a board meeting and a press conference to announce your departure, Oliver. It's time you did things responsibly. I won't be as lenient when you come back, you hear me boy?"

Oliver straightened up. "Yes, sir."

xxXxx

Hermione waved her wand in the air, finishing up her packing as she quickly undressed herself. It had taken a bit longer than she had expected to arrange things at the ministry for her departure, and the Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation had been miffed about the short notice, commenting on the disorganization of her own department. No doubt it was to purposely anger her.

She was turning the knobs of her shower when she heard someone knocking at her bedroom door. Wrapping her robe over herself, she quickly went to her door. "Gin, I'm in a bit of a hurry so-"

It wasn't Ginny at her door.

"Ron!" she exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

Ron noticed her apparel. "Am I too early for dinner? I was sure I was on time."

Hermione looked at him confusedly before she groaned. "Oh, Ron, I'm so sorry. I completely forgot about our dinner plans and this isn't really a good time."

"Told you, she wasn't going!" Ginny shouted from down the hall.

Ron glared at his sister before turning his attention back to Hermione. "Well, why not?"

Hermione glanced toward Ginny, begging with her eyes to explain the situation to Ron.

"What's going on?" Ron questioned.

"Sorry, sweetie," Hermione apologized again, standing on her tiptoes and giving him a chaste kiss. She then scurried into her bathroom and closed the door behind her.

"Come on, Ron," Ginny said, pulling on his brother's arm. "You can wait in the living room to say your goodbyes."

"Goodbyes? What for?"

Twenty minutes later, Hermione came trotting down the stairs, ready as she could be with her things shrunken into her purse.

Ron immediately came towards her and took her in his arms. He kissed her, and Hermione could hear Ginny making gagging noised in the background.

Chuckling, she pulled away from him. "Honestly, Ron, I'll only be gone a few days. Possibly no more than two."

Ron's eyes grew wide before he turned around a pointed an accusing finger at her sister. "You said she would be gone at least a week."

Ginny simply shrugged her shoulders. "Oh, I must have heard wrong."

Hermione rolled her eyes. She knew Ginny liked to tease Ron a lot.

"Well, I have to go," Hermione announced. "Ginny, tell Luna I'm sorry I didn't get to see her before I left, Harry as well. It was all short notice."

Ginny came over and hugged her. "Have a good trip, yeah?"

Hermione nodded and when she was released, Ron took hold of her again.

"You make sure to tell, Krum, just who your with. To keep his grimy hands to himself."

He was leaning to kiss her again, when she pulled back. "Ron, Viktor isn't coming with me. I'm actually going to the States in his place."

Again, Ron turned towards Ginny.

"What can I say, Ron? You just make this all too easy," Ginny smirked.

With one final goodbye, Hermione apparated to the ministry, where her portkey was waiting for her.


	4. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter and Smallville, if I did HHR and CHLARK would not be fanon. They each belong to their respective owners.

**A/N: **I would like to thank everyone for their wonderful reviews and any reader who has taken their to read my fic. I'm sorry for the delay but I hope this chapter makes up for it. Also give thanks to my wonderful beta **embirsiphonelilathia** who does a great job editing my chapters and giving me support. I usually go over my beta-ed chapters to double check my mistakes but sometimes I go over them quickly as to get the chapter out as soon as I can for you guys. So if they are still minor mistakes, that is all my doing. Well, enough of me blabbing, and enjoy the chapter.

**RESET**

**Chapter 3**

_Dear Ron, _

_These past few days at the Salem Witches' Institute have been wonderful. All went well and I am happy to say that everything is officially finalized. I'm a tad bit overwhelmed, actually. I just can't help but feel excited. Being in the States just makes it all real. I wish you could be here with me to share my excitement. I suppose I would just have to settle for telling you all about my visit, once I return to England. _

_Unfortunately, there are still other matters that I must attend to. I'll just be another few days. Please apologize to your mother for me. I promise to make next Sunday for the weekly Weasley family dinner. I'll see all of you soon. I miss you. _

_Love, _

_Hermione_

It was Saturday afternoon. Hermione had left Tuesday evening. Ron could only wonder what else Hermione had to take care of that required her to stay in the States a few extra days.

* * *

Hermione tried to recall another time in her life when she was as confused as she was now, standing before the Queen Manor. The gates loomed over her as she stared blankly at the intercom, hesitant about her next move.

Why was she here, again? Closure? No, that didn't sound quite right.

All Hermione knew was that the instant she had stepped into the States, her childhood memories had been brought to the forefront of her mind. And amidst all the excitement of her visit, she had felt as if she had been treading on the border of Massachusetts and California, despite that both states were at opposite ends of the country.

She no longer wanted to come up with excuses, reasons as to why she should or shouldn't be here. She was tired of trying to justify her actions and emotions. And if she was honest, she had brought this upon herself. _She_ had been the one to call him. She had always been the one to call him.

Back when she was ten, and had heard about the death of the Queen's, Hermione had spent almost the entire year calling and writing to Oliver, hoping that he would eventually respond. He never did. So when she left him a message a month ago, she hadn't expected him to call back.

_But he did call back,_ Hermione told herself as she lifted a finger to the intercom. _He called back. _

Oliver Queen, no matter how long ago it might have been, was a big part of her life, and she could no longer ignore it.

Taking a deep breath she pressed the button on the intercom, making her presence known.

"May I help you?" asked a deep, drawn out voice on the other side.

"I'm looking for Oliver Queen," Hermione said as politely as she could.

"I'm sorry, Miss, but reporters are not allowed on the premises. I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

"I'm not a reporter."

"Then state your business."

"I'm here to see Oliver Queen. I'm…an old friend."

"Name."

"Hermione Granger."

"I'm sorry, Ms. Granger, but I don't have you on my list."

"I know I'm not on your list but if you just pass my name to Mr. Queen-"

"Mr. Queen isn't taking any visitors."

"If you could please just pass on my name, I'm sure he would make an exception." Of this, she couldn't be sure.

"Mr. Queen isn't in at the moment," Hermione bristled, "but I'll let him know you stopped by. Now please step off the premises before I send an escort."

Hermione sighed in frustration. Now what? Was she supposed to go to Queen Industries and ask for Oliver there? But what if the man had been lying – he sure had sounded like it – and Oliver was actually hiding at home?

There was also the choice of apparation. Hermione had only been to the Queen Manor once during the Christmas holidays. She had been seven but she was sure she could recall a room within the house. The question was, though, would she risk it?

Before Hermione even dared to consider it, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed someone come out through the front door. Hermione went over to the gate to get a better look at the person, as well as to stand in their line of sight.

It was a woman around her early fifties, slightly plump, who seemed oddly familiar. She was wearing knee-length grey skirt, with a black jacket and white collar shirt underneath, and black flats. Her dark hair, streaked with grey, was tied back neatly in a bun.

The woman saw her, giving Hermione full view of her face. Hermione instantly recognized her pointed features, despite the engraved lines on her face.

"Greta!"

* * *

Oliver slammed the door as he got in the passenger seat.

"Hey, watch it!" Roger warned, "Not all of us got extra cars to spare, you know?"

Oliver glared at Roger. If that was a joke, he wasn't amused. "Just take me home, alright?"

When Roger didn't say anything, Oliver sunk into his seat, thinking that he should have just left four days ago. Instead he was staying until Tuesday, for the press conference. After that, he was gone.

Oliver hadn't initially planned to stay this long but Roger thought it would be best for him to oversee every single aspect of Queen Industries before he left. It was the responsible thing to do. It was what a good CEO would do.

Oliver wanted to laugh at that. He wasn't a CEO except in name only. That much have been proven a few moments ago, when the three-hour board meeting ended. Apparently the board members shared his opinion, and had not been shy in expressing their "concerns" about his leave. He had been so aggravated that he nearly left the meeting a few times, and even made it to the door once.

And now, he was taking an early leave of his office which Roger consented to, not that Oliver needed his permission. He would have just left anyway. Thus, Roger agreed and even offered him to give him a lift, rather than have Oliver call his driver.

"I'm disappointed in your behavior, Oliver," Roger finally spoke, catching his attention.

Oliver scoffed. "Well, I wonder whose idea it was to have a board meeting."

"Don't start with me boy, and listen. You always had responsibilities that you were too young to bear but that don't excuse your childish behavior at the board meeting. You have to remember, you are the CEO of Queen Industries. Don't give them a reason to say otherwise."

"Why not?" Oliver argued. "I don't want to be CEO. I'm not ready to be CEO."

Roger frowned. "We both know you wouldn't give up your position, even if you did have the choice. And you're right, you aren't ready to be CEO," Oliver opened his mouth to speak but Roger didn't give him the chance, "but one day you will be. I can already see what those board members, and your employees need glasses to see. Deep down, you care about this company, more than you let on but I know. I've always known. You will be a great CEO, Oliver."

Oliver stayed silent for a few moments, letting the words sink in, before asking softly, "How can you be so sure?"

At this Roger smiled, "Because you've managed to do what others can't, and that is acknowledging that you are not ready, and doing what would be best for the company, even if it means stepping down for a while. Also, you have the courage to announce it to the world on Tuesday."

* * *

"You know, at first I thought my eyes were deceiving me when I saw you," Greta said, "You've grown into quite the young lady but those big brown eyes and that beautiful hair of yours are still the same as I remember."

Hermione blushed and raised a hand to her hair. "I've always thought it to be dreadful, actually."

"You have beautiful hair," Greta told her sternly, "Not even as a child did you ever believe me."

Hermione smiled sheepishly at her old nanny, who – under her mother's recommendation – became Oliver's nanny when she had started attending grade school. There had been no use for a nanny after that, since she spent her days at school and her mother didn't work the afternoons.

"Here, take a seat. I'll be back in a moment," Greta told her as she indicated to the long dining table, while she stepped through a door that most likely led to the kitchen.

As she sat there alone, a maid walked by and gave her an odd look. Hermione felt uncomfortable all of a sudden. For the past hour, she had been catching up with Greta after she discovered that Oliver indeed wasn't home and would not be until late afternoon. Greta had insisted she stayed for lunch, which Hermione had reluctantly agreed. Now she wished she hadn't.

Here she was, sitting in this fancy dining room in the Queen Manor, about to have lunch as if she lived here. No wonder the maid had looked at her funny.

Hermione was about to stand, deciding she would apologize to Greta and take her leave, when the she heard the sound of the front door opening, followed by a distant "I'm home." She froze. The Queen Manor was big with not nearly enough occupants that it shouldn't be surprising that many sounds carried through the entire house. However, it was that distinct voice that caused Hermione to remain seated. She didn't dare make a sound, not wanting to make her presence known. Not yet.

In that moment, Greta came back, carrying a rather large sandwich and a glass of ice tea, announcing, "Here you are, dear," while placing the dishes rather loudly on the table.

Hermione didn't even turn to look at Greta. Instead, she held her breath, and looked towards the entrance way where she could hear the approaching footsteps.

"Greta?"

She heard him before she saw him, her heart racing.

"Oliver? Back already?" Greta called to him.

"Yeah. I wasn't needed at the office so I-" Oliver entered, stopping mid-sentence when he noticed her sitting at the table. Hermione, completely unprepared to see him, stood abruptly and accidently knocked down the ice tea. The glass rolled down the table, and crashed into the floor, shards scattering everywhere.

"Oh! I'm sorry!" Hermione exclaimed, as she nervously knelt down and started to pick up the shards. "I'm sorry. I'll just clean this up. Sorry."

"It's fine, dear," Greta said, pulling on her arm. "Leave it. I'll get one of the maids to clean it."

"No, no, I'll do it," Hermione protested, keeping her gaze down on the ground. Her hands were shaking.

"Now don't be foolish. Leave that, right now. Annie!"

She still didn't listen, and when Greta pulled on her arm again, Hermione pulled it back down, unintentionally tightening her hold on the shards in her hand, causing them to pierce her skin.

Hermione winced in pain and immediately dropped the shards as her palm bled.

"Oh dear lord!" Greta exclaimed, kneeling down next to Hermione and placing a napkin over her hand. "Oliver, go and get the first aid kit!"

As Oliver left, Annie, the maid walked in and immediately started cleaning up the mess as Greta helped Hermione off the floor, and led her into the kitchen.

* * *

Oliver had had no time to react when he entered the dining room, expecting to see only Greta, when he was also met with the sight of a young woman.

He had startled her, causing her to knock her glass into the ground. He had only taken a few steps forward with the intent to help, when he heard her voice. _That_ voice.

But it couldn't have been, could it?

Oliver lingered outside of the kitchen door, a moment longer than necessary, before he took a deep breath and entered with the first aid kit in hand.

"That will teach you to listen to me," Greta said sternly, as she held the girl's hand beneath the faucet. "Foolish child."

"Sorry, Greta, but it really is nothing. I've been through worse, if you could believe it."

There it was again. Her voice.

Oliver coughed nervously. "I-I have the first aid kit."

The girl seemed to tense up as he spoke but Greta didn't seem to have noticed. "Good, bring it here, Oliver."

Heeding her words, Oliver went to hand her the kit, and then stepped to the side, standing there awkwardly as Greta tended to the girl.

The girl, in turn, kept her head bowed, not once lifting it to acknowledge him.

It was only when Greta finished wrapping her hand that the old woman exclaimed in realization, startling both, that the girl looked up.

"Oh good heavens! I must really be getting old. Oliver, we have a special guest, an old friend of yours. I'm sure you remember Hermione Granger."

At that moment, Oliver and Hermione stared at each other.


End file.
